


Shoes

by The_shadows_of_my_mind



Series: Another Night in the Musain [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gang holdup, Hinted at Relationship?, M/M, No real physical contact, general sillyness, lost shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_shadows_of_my_mind/pseuds/The_shadows_of_my_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac doesn't let anything bring him down, especially not the rain. While walking home, he runs into a friend who's gotten himself into a bit of a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoes

Courfeyrac left The Musain, drawing his collar up against the rain and wind. Shaking his head and muttering a soft curse, the dandy strode off, humming a light tune under his breath. While many of the other Amis detested the rain, Courfeyrac loved it: the empty streets, the sounds, the feeling of a new beginning. The dandy sighed contently, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking around. A sight in one of the alleys caused him to stop not a street later.

A group of three men had pinned a boy around Courfeyrac's age to the wall, one of them holding the point of a knife against the boy's side. Courfeyrac blinked, watching as another one of the men slung a tattered bag over his shoulder and kneed the boy in the stomach, releasing his jacket. The two others both took a swing at the boy, sending him sprawling face first into the mud. Courfeyrac sighed, shaking his head and making his way closer to the group. The three men spotted him and took off, running down the street. Courfeyrac knelt beside the boy, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

" _Excusez-mon monsieur_...Are you alright?" The boy tensed curling into a ball and sniffing.

"P-please, I-I haven't got anything left..." He whimpered, casting a shy looked up at Courfeyrac. The dandy blinked, then shook his head.

"No! I don't want anything from you; I was just making sure you were alright." The boy looked up, mud dripping from the end of his nose. Courfeyrac extended a hand, pulling the boy to his feet. "...Feuilly?" The boy looked up again, his red eyes widening in recognition.

"Etienne!" Feuilly exclaimed, lunging at the elder and wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac's middle. The dandy blinked, gently returning the embrace. Feuilly had begun to tremble, and Courfeyrac could hear the boy whimpering and fighting back tears.

"Gilles... _petit_ , it's alright." Courfeyrac spoke gently, rubbing circles onto the boy's back. Feuilly sniffed, tears leaving trails down his filthy cheeks. Courfeyrac couldn't stand seeing the fan-maker so upset. It wasn't like Feuilly to complain about a little roughing up, never mind cry over it. Courfeyrac fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning the mud and tears off Feuilly's face, still whispering gently to the boy. Slowly, Feuilly began to calm down.

"Sorry..." He mumbled, trying to clean off the splotch of mud he had left on the dandy's overcoat. Courfeyrac shook his head, taking Feuilly's hands and smiling gently.

"It's a coat Feuilly, it'll come clean." The fan-maker blushed, nodding and looking down at his shoes, or lack thereof. Courfeyrac frowned, following the boy's gaze. " _Dieu_ Feuilly, where've your shoes gone?"

"I eh...Lost them?" The fan-maker replied uncertainly, a weak smile tugging at his lips. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, grabbing Feuilly around the waist and throwing the boy over his shoulder, strolling calmly from the alley. Feuilly squirmed on his shoulder, pounding his fists onto the dandy's back.

"Put me down Courf, put me down!"

"Now why would I do that? You poor feet will get wet!" Courfeyrac grinned, brushing his free hand over the soles of Feuilly's dangling feet. The fan-maker squeaked, wriggling on Courfeyrac's shoulder and growling.

"Don't do that..."

"What...this?" Courfeyrac asked, tickling the fan-maker's feet again.

"Stop it Courf!" Feuilly shrieked, trying to bite back his laughter as he tried desperately to get free. The dandy grinned, holding tightly onto Feuilly's midsection.

"Careful Feuilly, you'll send us both into the mud!" He chuckled, poking the boy's side. Feuilly stopped moving, grumbling under his breath. Courfeyrac grinned triumphantly, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. "Now let's get somewhere war and dry, shall we?" Feuilly mumbled a response, swinging his legs and resuming his squirming. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, looking around before hurrying down the street.

By the time they had reached Courfeyrac's flat, Feuilly had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Courfeyrac set the boy down on the couch, chuckling as the fan-maker began to snore softly. The dandy stood, lighting a fire and draping a blanket around the boy's shoulders and brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

" _Dieu_ Feuilly..." He mumbled, settling into the armchair and resting his head on his knees, allowing the rain to carry him to sleep.


End file.
